


Somebody to Die for

by trajektoria



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mass Effect Big Bang 2017, Monsters, Reyes is a Badass, Survival Horror, this fic is 1/4 horror and 3/4 fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 02:09:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12025878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trajektoria/pseuds/trajektoria
Summary: A very disturbing distress signal from an unfamiliar ship interrupts Scott and Reyes' lazy morning. They have no idea that they will have to face there something out of this world, something they haven't seen before. And that their lives will change forever as a result.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is my entry for the Mass Effect Big Bang 2017. I had tons of fun with it and I hope so will you. The art was created by my MEBB Art Partner [Bioticfox](http://bioticfox.tumblr.com/) and it's great! I'm really happy that we got to work together on this. 
> 
> Special thanks to [captainjennhart](http://captainjennhart.tumblr.com/) who is the best beta ever and a dear friend <3

 

_Art byBioticfox_

* * *

 

 

The thing Scott hated most in his job as a Pathfinder was the loneliness. Not the kind that came from being physically alone, when he had to explore distant planets on the other side of the galaxy, far away from any signs of civilization, sometimes being the first person from the Milky Way to have ever laid their eyes upon the outlandish, beautiful landscapes. No, even there he was surrounded by his crew, his friends. People were always orbiting around him. In places like the Nexus, Meridian or Aya, he could hardly take a few steps without someone chatting him up, wanting to hear about some of his more daring adventures or asking him for help. Or even just to beg him for an autograph, as bizarre as that was – especially after a whole planet had been named after him. Scott eventually got used to this, this almost celebrity status of his, although at heart he still remained that nerdy, awkward, introverted kid from the Citadel, just glad to be able to walk among the stars.

No, the loneliness he felt was of a different kind. The loneliness of responsibility, of choices he had to make. Loneliness that came with having power over people's lives, and deaths, loneliness of the inability to be everywhere at once and help everyone who needed it.

Lying alone in bed, he spent countless restless nights mulling over everything he had done, second-guessing himself. His mind raced, as he kept shouting into the void of his own mind, had he truly done everything in his power for the people of Andromeda? Were his choices just, sensible, merciful? Had he made mistakes? Could he have done something better? The faces of the people he had failed, those he allowed to die, haunted him every time he closed his eyes. Would his dad have fared better? Would he be proud of what Scott had achieved, of who he had become? Or would he chastise him because nothing he ever did was good enough? But what if he was right? What if Scott truly wasn't good enough, wasn't cut out for the job? Wouldn't it have been better if it had been him who died on Habitat-7, if his dad hadn't sacrificed himself to let Scott live?

Whenever these doubts and destructive thoughts became unbearable, threatening to crush his soul under their weight, Scott called Reyes. The hour didn't matter. The Charlatan would always spare a moment for him, engage in a silly banter, say something cheesy that simultaneously made Scott groan and melted his heart, and with a smile that was a beacon of light, a safe haven among the darkness, tell him that everything will be okay. Reyes understood, he always did. He had the uncanny ability to always make him feel better, cheer him up no matter how dreadful the situation appeared to be. His soothing voice and his warm, golden eyes could always chase the demons away and lull him to a peaceful sleep, free of any nightmares.

That night he didn't feel lonely at all. That night he slept without a care in the world.

Scott opened his eyes slowly, giving himself a few moments and a few blinks to come back to reality. His senses woke up along with him, one by one. Sight first, as he noticed the ceiling, his eyes looking up. It seemed familiar. Everything was coming back to him, his sleep-addled brain processing the data at an embarrassingly sluggish speed. Yes, he was in his own bed in the Pathfinder's Quarters at the Tempest. Good, he didn't really want to suddenly wake up somewhere else. On instinct, he turned his head to the nightstand and the vintage electronic clock that stood there, courtesy of Vetra and her unparalleled black market connections. Five thirty am. Too early to get up but too late to get back to sleep again.

Scott sighed softly, sliding his hand down his face to wipe the remnants of sleepiness from his features. He didn't stop the movement at that. His hand hovered over his naked chest and rested atop a tawny arm slung listlessly over his stomach.

A fond smile tugged at the corner of Scott's lips. He gazed at the other side of the bed, currently occupied by Reyes, lying on his side and still deep in slumber. The infamous Charlatan looked so different while asleep, almost like another person. There was no trace of that ever present flirty smile of his, no playful sparks in his eyes that masked constant vigilance and more intellect than people gave him credit for. Just this stillness and peacefulness, both so uncharacteristic but so very welcome at the same time.

Scott ran his fingers through his lover's tousled hair. He still felt his kisses on his lips and neck, his touch still burned on his skin, the memory of being filled and used still pulsed inside him. Last night they watched a movie, some trashy romantic comedy for laughs, but didn't manage to last till the end, unable to keep their hands off one another. The sex was frantic and rough at first, but when their lust and longing had been quenched, it dissolved into gentle lovemaking intertwined with lame jokes and giggles. The sweat had long dried off from Scott's skin, but the sheets still smelled like them. Just like he liked it. He knew he wouldn't change them for weeks to come, not until his lover's next visit on the Tempest.

“Mhm?” hummed Reyes drowsily, half-opening one eye.

Scott stroked his smooth cheek in a soothing gesture.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep,” he whispered, smiling like a fool. A fool completely and irrevocably in love. “I'm just happy that you're here.”

Reyes let out a soft huff that could mean absolutely anything or nothing at all. For a moment Scott thought that his lover would heed his advice but then the grip on his stomach tightened. With surprising strength for someone who was still mostly in the land of dreams, Reyes pulled Scott closer to himself and hugged him like a child would a favorite teddy bear. 

Scott didn't mind. Far from it.

“Not only a smuggler, but a snuggler too, huh?” Scott joked, relaxing against his lover's naked body. In his arms, he felt safe and cared for. All the problems of the universe seemed so far away, so trivial, so unworthy of his attention. Destructive thoughts and doubts lay dormant, pushed so far back that they held no substance, no meaning. “You're a man of many surprises.”

Reyes responded with a dopey chuckle.

“More good ones than bad ones I hope.”

“I can ask SAM to run a tally.” Scott kissed the hinge of his jaw.

Reyes hummed with approval. His hand moved along Scott's spine and the curve of his hip, where it rested, his thumb making small, circular motions right at the edge of his pubic hair. Scott's breath hitched, as the wave of warmth radiating from that spot ignited his veins. His body still hadn't had enough. He could never get enough of Reyes. And the Charlatan knew it, savored the power he had over him. Just as much as he enjoyed the chase.

“Aren't you tired from before, hm?” Reyes whispered, a little more awake now.

“Why, you're lacking stamina? Looking for a way out?” There was a challenge in his voice, spiced up with a flirtatious tone.

Reyes liked it, if the mischievous glint in his eyes could be trusted. Smirking, he made Scott lay down on his back and slowly climbed atop his lover. His face hovered right above Scott's, his golden eyes wide open and attentive. Sleep seemed to have been forgotten for the time being.

“You're heavy,” Scott complained half-heartedly, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“That's a small price to pay for all the muscles and sexiness, no?” he said, making the Pathfinder chuckle. He could always do that, no matter what. Smooth bastard. “Besides, I didn't hear you complaining before.”

“That's because I was distracted. Didn't have time to complain...”

Reyes tilted his head and his hair fell to the side. Scott found that both alluring and endearing.

“Well, in that case I have no choice. I need to properly distract you again.”

Their lips met and Scott melted into the kiss. He could spend an eternity like this, nothing but the lazy slides of tongues and his lover's warm body pressing against his own. His mind went pleasantly blank, empty of all thoughts, big or small. He operated now on a much more primal, emotional level, every touch filling his insides with fireworks.

Scott almost whined in protest when Reyes left his mouth, moving down his body. All protests died down in his throat though, replaced by content sighs as his lover's lips claimed him piece by piece. The cheek, the chin, the Adam's apple and then the side of his neck, already marred by vivid love bites. But it didn't stop there. The collarbone, the solar plexus and finally the nipple, already hard and begging for attention. Reyes' tongue swirled around the nub, teeth gently grazing the skin. Scott threw his head back, his fingers clawing at the sheets.

“ _Pathfinder._ ” SAM's sudden interruption made them both jump up, startled.

“God, SAM, not _now_!” Scott hissed, impatient and on edge. Reyes looked at him and quirked an eyebrow, more amused than annoyed.  

“ _I understand you are preoccupied and I would not have exposed you to the risk of sexual frustration if it was not important._ ”

“Whatever this is it can wait a few minutes,” Scott grumbled, suddenly extremely self-conscious. It was so easy to forget that SAM was always with him, always listening and seeing everything that was happening. Seeing them getting it on. _Feeling,_ in a way, as they got it on.

The tips of Scott's ears started to burn bright red. As did his cheeks, his neck... In fact, his whole body radiated embarrassment from every pore.

 “ _I am not sure it can, Pathfinder._ ”

“What is this about, SAM?” asked Reyes, resting his head on Scott's stomach. That man couldn't be fazed by anything. A quality that easily flustered Scott was particularly jealous of.

“ _Kallo wants to speak to Scott urgently._ ”

Scott groaned. The moment was ruined. He wondered if it could get any worse.

“Fine. Patch him through.”

“ _Understood._ ”

Scott seethed with outrage in silence for a few seconds, but finally he heard the salarian's voice coming through the speakers in the cabin.

“Ryder?”

“What?!” Scott snapped. He could almost see Kallo cowering in his pilot seat and that made him feel bad. Taking his anger out on Kallo felt too much like kicking a puppy. A deep breath, and he tried a softer tone. “What's going on?”  

“Sorry for interrupting... hm... whatever you were doing, but we intercepted a distress call. It's... worrying.”

“Worrying how?”

“I think it's best if you hear it yourself.”

Scott exchanged a glance with Reyes. The Charlatan was intrigued and all ears.

“Okay. Play it.”

Loud, unpleasant static noise filled the room, making them both cringe. The quality of the recording was unacceptable and the message barely audible among the hissing and cracking. Someone or something must have jumbled the signal and distorted the original message almost to the point beyond any recognition. And yet what they did hear of the terrified female voice was enough to convince them of the severity of the situation.

 “...capt... speaking... Avalon... urgent assiss... don't know... killed most... some... of alie... resist... bulle... here!...”

The recording ended with a scream cut short by another bout of static.

“Wow,” said Scott, feeling uneasy. The scream still reverberated in the back of his head. “SAM, can you clean the recording up? I'd like to hear the whole thing.”

“ _I already did, Pathfinder. The message was heavily distorted on arrival. I am not sure by what. The Scourge is a probable culprit, although the readings do not confirm that hypothesis one hundred percent._ ”

“Huh. Kallo, do we know where this message came from?”

“Yes, Ryder. It's from a spaceship near Thy'vernos.”

“How long till we get there?”

“Should be about an hour, maybe one and a half.”

“Okay. We need to check it out. Set a course for that ship and... _aah_!” Scott clamped his hand over his mouth and looked down, glaring daggers. Reyes' eyes crinkled impishly from between Scott's legs. He grinned as much as his currently occupied mouth allowed.

“Ryder? Are you okay?” asked Kallo, confused.

“Yeah... I'm... mhm... fine. I'll be on the bridge... in... uhm... ten.”

“Hyhteen,” muttered Reyes from around him.

“Fifteen,” Scott, agreed, giving up. Nothing was sacred to Reyes. Scott ended the call, closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in the moment, covering his eyes with his arm. It was unprofessional, he knew full well. But they couldn't do anything until they reached their destination anyway, right? Might as well enjoy what was left of the morning. And Reyes made sure that there was plenty of enjoyment involved.


	2. Chapter 2

In actuality, it took them far more than fifteen minutes to finally arrive on the bridge. Shena’s particular set of oral skills was to blame for that, as the bastard seemed to have been drawing things out on purpose, undoubtedly enjoying how the Pathfinder squirmed at the mercy of his mouth, begging and cursing. The joint shower that followed also took longer than anticipated since Scott wanted to return the favor, albeit only manually due to the time restraint. When they did finally show up, clean and proper, they were greeted by knowing smirks and conspiratorial glances exchanged by the squad that had gathered in full, having heard about the distress signal already. Perhaps the lovers' faces radiated too much of that ‘I just had sex’ vibe to fake ignorance.

However, not all Tempest-dwellers got the memo that it was polite not to comment.

“Ryder, are those human teeth marks on your neck?” asked Kallo, his large black eyes even wider than normal.

Suvi giggled. Reyes grinned smugly. Scott cleared his throat.

“So,” he began in his serious Pathfinder’s voice, hoping that his treacherous skin didn’t turn pink. Sara always teased him that he blushed more fiercely than a Victorian maiden, which obviously brought even more color to his cheeks. “What’s the status?”

“We should reach the destination shortly,” said Suvi, all business now. “Two or three minutes.”

They really took their sweet time in coming to the bridge. Scott almost felt guilty. Almost, since Reyes' presence at his side made him feel a lot of other things first.

“Good. Do we know anything about that ship? SAM? Anyone?”

His crew replied with shrugs, shakes of their heads or blank stares. SAM was a little more helpful.

“ _Pathfinder. I have checked the databases against the keyword Avalon. It seems to be one of the vessels used by the exiles. Smugglers, most likely_.”

 “Never heard that name before,” said Reyes with conviction. “They’re not from Kadara, that’s for sure. Elaaden maybe?”

Scott nodded, trusting his lover’s experience in all matters underworld.

“So people on that ship belong to the sort that doesn't like drawing attention to themselves. Whatever emergency they’re dealing with must be serious enough to cause them to throw all caution and secrecy to the wind.”

“That scream did sound serious,” Reyes agreed.

Scott bit his lip. The scream had him really worried. Just like the jumbled information about possible casualties. It didn’t sound good. Literally. What could have caused that? Another hostile ship? The kett maybe? Was the crew killed, kidnapped or exalted?

Kallo interrupted his grim train of thoughts.

“We have visual.”

Scott stared beyond the huge window, focusing on a dark spaceship floating right in front of them. Avalon was a medium-size vessel, four or five times bigger than the Tempest. A crew of around forty usually manned ships like these, although how many were actually needed for smuggling operations Scott could only guess. He let his eyes wander along the hull, looking for any signs of destruction. There was no breach, no visible damage, at least from this side.

“SAM, scan the ship, look for any problems, any possible cause for the distress call.”

“ _I am sorry, Scott, but I am unable to do that_.”

Scott furrowed his eyebrows. SAM’s abilities sometimes felt almost limitless, the AI could perform nothing short of miracles. Any deviation from that norm felt… well, _wrong_.

“Huh? Why not?”

“ _Something is interrupting all my attempts and blocking them. I cannot get through_.”

“Something? Like what? A jamming device?”

“ _I do not know. I have not encountered an obstacle of a similar nature before._ ”

Scott cast a glance at Reyes.

“This just keeps getting better and better.”

“Never a boring day in Andromeda.” Reyes gave him a roguish smile, only enhanced by his signature wink. “Just as we like it.”

Scott returned the smile. Yeah, that was true. Just as they liked it. There was nothing worse for the both of them than the tedium of a routine, a string of days passing by without any excitement. It took all Scott's willpower not to kiss Reyes joyously in front of everyone.

 “Okay. We’re gonna check out what’s going on with that ship,” he decided, his hands on his hips. He was itching for action, biotic energy sizzling deep within his body like gasoline begging for a lit match. “Three people on the team. If things go south we’re gonna call for back up.”

“I don’t expect us to have need for the cavalry, though, we should be capable of dealing with the situation on our own,” Reyes said, displaying his usual unwavering confidence.

“I didn’t say you’re going,” Scott said, raising an eyebrow.

“You didn’t have to, that’s self-evident.” Reyes smiled, not at all put out. “Of course I'm going.”

“Says who?”

“Says the man with the largest experience in, hm... watching your backside.”

Scott forgot how to make sounds for a while, but that affliction didn't extend to his crew, who displayed various states of amusement.

“Besides,” continued Reyes, pleased with himself, “you have taken me from my planet and dragged me across the system. It’s not like I can catch a ride home from here, no? And inaction is not really my style. You want me to trash your cabin from boredom? Or start demoralizing your squadmates?”

Scott cast him a half-annoyed glance, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You don’t even have a proper space suit.”

“But you do. Quite a lot of them actually, in your armory. I’m sure that at least one will fit me nicely. I'm only slightly shorter than you and a tad more muscular. Sharing is caring, right?”

Scott opened his mouth to argue but then closed it promptly. They both knew that the matter was settled already and any bickering would only delay the inevitable. The best option for Scott was just to agree and get this over with before it turned into some cheap telenovela-like drama.

 “Okay, _fine_.” He turned to his team, who awaited his orders. After a moment of consideration, Scott decided that it would be a good idea to take the most sensible person with him to balance Reyes' cockiness. “Cora, suit up. Not sure what we will find there, but it’s always good to have some additional biotic punch.”

“Aye, aye, Pathfinder,” she said, a little smile playing on her lips. Scott didn’t know what she was thinking, but he was glad for the lack of audible commentary.

Scott waved his hand and the rest of the team dispersed, returning to whatever they were doing. Then he turned back to Reyes, who looked smug and confident. Without a word, Scott started walking towards the Tempest's small armory, knowing that his lover would follow him like a shadow.

“Should I leave my clothes on or take everything off before putting on the armor?” he asked innocently. Scott wasn’t fooled by it.

“If you take them off, I doubt we’ll ever leave the armory.”

“Quite true.” Reyes pecked Scott’s cheek, winked at him and opened the closet, concentrating on the task of choosing the best suit among the whole collection. Scott in turn concentrated on the Charlatan's face. A few seconds later he slapped himself mentally. There was a mission awaiting, he reminded himself.

His stomach, on the other hand, reminded him quite fiercely that he hadn't eaten breakfast yet. The thunderous rumbling was hard to ignore.

“Is that your belly or are the Tempest engines exploding one by one?” asked Reyes, looking over his shoulder.

“Hardy har har. I'm a biotic, I need to eat like an elephant.”

“Hm... You should have given me the head then.”

Scott blinked in shock.

“Oh. My. God,” he gasped, mortified. “You're the absolute worst.” Scott grabbed a glove and chucked it at the laughing Reyes, who ducked, avoiding the missile with grace. He even caught it effortlessly. The bastard.

“Fits like a glove,” he said, putting the piece of armor on and flexing his fingers to check the range of movement.

Scott groaned.

“Pun overload. You're on fire today.”

“That's because I'm burning up with the desire for action.”

The Pathfinder rubbed his forehead.

“Ugh. Remind me why I even love you?”

“My charm, wit and sexy ass?” Reyes suggested, flashing him a grin.

Scott grabbed one of the helmets, walked to his boyfriend and put it unceremoniously on his head.

“Just stop talking, babe.”

The helmet couldn't muffle Reyes' laughter. Chuckling fondly himself, since he couldn't really stay mad at his lover for long, Scott kissed the visor and proceeded to suit up in his N7 armor of choice.

Hopefully, it would be one hell of an adventure.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

_Art by[Bioticfox](http://bioticfox.tumblr.com/)_

* * *

 

 

The Tempest came as close to the Avalon as possible. Despite Suvi’s numerous attempts to contact the crew, there was no response. The ship was deathly silent save for even more strange static. Scott tried not to think about the implications of that, not just yet. Better to board prepared for the worst but without letting your imagination run wild; that wouldn't end up well.

Without the cooperation from another vessel, Scott and the rest of the team had to take a short walk in space and open the hatch manually. Well, more a long jump than a proper walk, really. Scott was really impressed with Kallo’s piloting skills. The salarian deserved a raise. If the Initiative actually paid them at all, that is.

The Pathfinder pulled hard at the emergency latch and turned it ninety degrees. The manually overridden door opened slowly. Scott gestured for Cora and Reyes to enter first. As his teammates disappeared into the small hole, he signed to Kallo – hidden behind the front window – that they were fine, and then followed his companions, slipping inside.

They found themselves in a large airlock that could easily hold not only the whole squad but also the Nomad along with them. Scott shifted impatiently, waiting for the hatch to seal again. Patience had never been his forte. Especially when there were interesting things on the horizon. His mind was positively aching to unveil all the mysteries of this ship.

The hatch finally locked back in place with a soft _click_. The standard warning alarm rang in their ears, accompanied by a hiss of air when the pressure stabilized. The door to the main part of the ship opened before them. They stepped out carefully, unsure what awaited them.

An empty corridor with lights flickering ominously every few seconds. And that silence, silence that almost seemed tangible. And dangerous. The calm before the storm, the suspension of time before the blast, the holding of breath right before the predator began to hunt.

“Lovely,” said Scott, feeling the imperative to diffuse the tension. He lowered his helmet, preferring to have full vision. Cora and Reyes did the same. “What can go wrong?”

“Said every hero of a horror vid ever,” muttered Cora, on high alert.

“I hate horror movies,” added Reyes, making sure that the safety catch of his assault rifle was released and the clip full. “Dark skinned guys always die first.”

“Aww, don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Scott smiled at him.

“You will shield me with your broad, manly chest?” Reyes flirted back shamelessly.  

Cora rolled her eyes.

“Guys, come on, mission? Focus.” She shook her head with exasperation. “Let’s find out what happened here.”

“Right.” Scott cleared his throat, nodding. No amount of joking or flirting would change the fact that something bad befell the Avalon and it was up to them to figure out what exactly. And of course help people who needed assistance. If, of course, there were any left alive. Scott didn't want to think about that now.  “We should head towards the bridge. The message was most likely sent from there.” Or from the captain’s private cabin, or maybe the meeting room. But the bridge was the most likely spot, and besides, from there they would be able to access the logs and find out where the ship was before.

There was no opposition to this plan, so Scott went first down the corridor. He had no weapon in his hand, but he didn't need one. His biotic-charged fingers were a weapon deadlier than any bullet. His steps were measured, careful. People often underestimated him, put off by his young age, all that snark and compulsive inability to treat things with the pomp they reportedly deserved. But his personality aside, he was a trained soldier and one of the best biotics in Andromeda. Not to mention the human Pathfinder with quite an impressive array of achievements to his name already. He knew what he was doing. At least he hoped so.

Still, even someone who had seen their fair share of crap and faced the Archon head-on could lose their bearings sometimes. Like when they took a turn at the corridor junction only to see bodies. A lot of bodies. Corpses of men and women of different races laying down, strewn haphazardly in a chaotic frenzy of torn limbs, guts and blood. At least ten crew members had died here, guns blazing, in what seemed like a last ditch effort to defeat the enemy.

“Shit,” Scott muttered, his eyes wide with shock. All humor was sucked out of him in an instant. His pulse quickened, fueled by fear. The silence started to weigh even heavier on his mind. 

“How… how could this happen?” said Cora, visibly shaken as well.

Reyes took the carnage in slowly, as if gathering intel, piecing the information together, figuring stuff out. If the sight had moved him in any way, he didn't let that show. Careful to avoid the gore, he walked towards the closest corpse – a woman with curly hair – and crouched near her.  

“She wasn’t killed by bullets or lasers,” he said, examining the woman’s wounds. “Torn to shreds and bled out, more like it. Knives? Or… claws?” he ventured a guess, standing up again.

“An animal then?” Cora asked, getting herself together.

“Or something else. Something… worse.” Reyes locked eyes with Scott.

The Pathfinder hesitated, losing some of his previous self-assured courage. This didn’t look good. He could deal with bandits or the kett, even with the remnants, no problem, but the situation at hand seemed to be light years from what he was used to. In this galaxy they were the aliens. Who knew what horrors lurked here that they weren’t even aware of?

“Maybe we could use some back-up. Especially Jaal, maybe he knows something that would help,” Scott decided eventually, turning his omni-tool on. “Kallo, can you read me?”

Only static answered him. He tried again, but with the same result.

“SAM, can you contact the Tempest?”

“ _I am s-sorry, Pathfinder. S-something is blocking the s-signal_.”

Scott cursed under his breath, but paused in the middle, having realized something that chilled his bones even more than the slaughter in front of him. He had heard SAM’s voice in his head or in his ears so many times that he knew it as well as his own, maybe even better. Something was wrong. SAM didn’t sound as he should.

“SAM, is everything all right? You seem… muffled.”

“ _I do not know. There is a lot of s-s-s-static on this s-s-s-ship. I find it difficult to operate as usual_.”

Scott’s mental state changed from anxious to truly frightened. Reyes looked at him with concern.

“I don’t like this. Maybe we should–”

A terrified, pained scream, coming from deep within the ship cut him off.

“Survivors?” asked Cora.

“Not for long if we don’t do something!” shouted Scott.    

 

* * *

 

There was no time to hesitate, Reyes understood that. Decisions had to be made at the drop of a hat, the situation required quick thinking. Not that he liked it, but that was the reality of it. And Scott did exactly as Reyes feared he’d do – throwing all caution to the wind and letting his heroic instincts take over, Scott dashed towards the person who needed help without any regard for his own safety. Admirable, yet stupid. Reckless. Infuriating.

This was precisely why Scott should never go anywhere without his teammates watching over him. Someone had to make sure that he didn't die while playing the hero. People who protected Scott from himself.

Cora ran after him without delay, trusting the Pathfinder and respecting him as a leader. Reyes, despite all his instincts shouting at him to get the hell away from here, followed too. It seemed that even the pragmatic Charlatan wasn't immune to Scott's influence, as much as it annoyed him.

Feet pounding against the metal floor, blood thrumming loud in his temples, Reyes dashed after Scott through a corridor that too bore signs of a combat. Two corpses, a human and a turian, told the story of a defeat.

Suddenly, the Pathfinder stopped. Momentum made Reyes take a step more before grinding to a halt. He sucked in air, shock and oxygen filling his lungs in equal measure.

At the end of the long corridor was... something. An irregular shape about four feet tall hidden in the shadows. The silhouette twitched as if being electrocuted, skulking closer inch by inch. Flickering lights shone onto it, revealing a creature like nothing Reyes had ever seen. 

It walked on four, meaty, clawed paws devoid of any hair or fur, but with thick, protruding veins pulsing sickly green with every step it took. Its whole body was like that, organic, bald, and serrated like an open wound. An emaciated beast, as if it had been starved for months, but wiry and with a surprisingly small, triangular head attached to the torso. Its eyes were big, milky, divulging that the creature probably had poor sight or was even entirely blind. The large, flat nose seemed to compensate for the shortcomings of the eyes. But what truly caught Reyes' attention was the mouth – without lips, just a dark hole in the raw flesh, but with rows upon rows of long needle-like teeth. The creature glistened in the unstable light, moist, its skin covered in sweat or some other oily substance reeking a putrid stench.

The air seemed to crack with static, making it hard to breathe. Hair on the back of Reyes' neck stood bolt upright, his whole body electrified. He felt as if a bolt of lightning was about to hit this very spot. Undoubtedly, that unsettling aura came from the creature, who observed them with its lifeless eyes. 

“What the hell is that?” muttered Scott, more to himself than the rest of his team. He looked freaked out. Reyes could hardly fault him for that.

The monster blinked slowly, with an unpleasant, wet sound that sent shivers down Reyes' spine. Its mouth opened wide, as wide as if the hinges of its jaw had gone loose. It took a deep, wheezing breath.

And screamed.

The noise pierced through Reyes' skull like a drill, worse than a thousand fingernails scratching frantically against a blackboard. He winced, as the horrid shriek reverberated through his bones, the echo in the aftermath shaking every cell, centrifuging his body and soul. But it was nothing compared to what the others experienced, as he soon found out, risking a glance behind him.

Cora's eyes were shut tight as she yelled at the top of her lungs, desperately pressing her hands to her ears in a futile attempt to block the hellish noise. Blood trickled down from her nostrils, pooling at her lower lip. And Scott...

“Scott!” Reyes shouted in disbelief, in anguish, seeing the agony of his lover. The Pathfinder fell down to the ground, thrashing about as if in the throes of a horrid epileptic fit. His eyes rolled up, showing whites, and pinkish foam erupted from his mouth, covering it whole. Blood was flowing, not only from his nose, but from the corners of his lips, his ears and even his eyes. “Scott!” Reyes repeated breathlessly, his knees going weak. He couldn't comprehend what he was seeing, couldn't accept it. No way anyone or anything would be able to take Scott down so easily. Not like this, not ever. That man was invincible. Just a few minutes ago he was joking about protecting Reyes. And now this? It didn't make sense.

The monster stopped screaming. Its claws pattered against the metal floor as it moved closer almost languidly, savoring the moment like a cat who has cornered a defenseless mouse.

Reyes tore his pained gaze from Scott. His mind whirred, desperately attempting to process the situation. With a chill permeating him to his very soul, he realized that he was alone, completely on his own. The only one still standing, the only one capable of taking action, the only one face to face with the monster.

The very monster who started an ungainly run towards them. _Clang clang_ went his claws, drumming the death march against the floor.

There was something people often misunderstood about Reyes. He wasn't a brave man. He wasn't a badass, trigger-happy merc who laughed as he bathed in the blood of his enemies. And he certainly wasn't a hero. Scott was the one who always dashed headlong into any danger, act first and think later, if at all. That wasn't Reyes' style. On the contrary, he was the exact opposite of that – the master planner. Before doing anything, he considered pros and cons, trying to predict and weigh every outcome. Taking action was reserved only for occasions when the odds were in his favor. When they weren't, he simply waited and searched for other available options, scheming for the future. Manipulation, subterfuge, intelligence gathering – those were the areas at which he excelled. The man with a plan, a few contingency ones included just in case.

He was not a mercenary, not a hero. He was first and foremost a _survivor_.  

There was still a chance; he knew he could make it. The cold, calculating part of his brain supplied all the necessary information – if he started a mad dash towards the airlock and then to the Tempest this very second, he could live. Especially if the monster decided to satisfy itself with easier prey: Scott – unmoving, limp, most likely dead already or close – and his incapacitated friend unable to defend herself. Reyes could still save himself, push away all the feelings that could hinder him and be a selfish bastard, the scum of the earth, but at least a breathing one. What use had honor or loyalty when you were dead? Better to run, leave all this behind and later drink yourself into a stupor to drown out the regrets.

And, ah fuck, before meeting Scott and falling in love with him, he might have just gone along with that plan.

Cursing, Reyes took aim and shot the monster right in the eye. It screeched more in annoyance than in pain, not even slowing down.

Panic clenching his throat, Reyes reached to the satchel hanging on his hip, fumbling in it frantically. He never went anywhere without his gear. Extreme caution bordering on paranoia had saved his life numerous times before. Hopefully, he'd be able to add one more to the tally.

“Eat shit, asshole!” he shouted, pressing the button on the small orb he had fished out of the satchel. Waiting a second, he hurled the grenade right between the monster's legs, now barely ten feet away from them. The bomb erupted in a raging ball of fire, swallowing the creature whole. It howled piercingly, stumbled and turned around, scurrying away. The hellish noise it made still rang in Reyes' ears as he fell to his knees right next to Scott. The Pathfinder was still, his face blank, smeared with blood and saliva.

_Please, God, let him live._

Reyes heaved Scott's body up and threw him over his shoulder. He felt limp, weightless. Destroyed. Broken. Reyes pushed these thoughts away. There was no time, he needed to focus. Getting sick with worry wouldn't help anyone.

“Move!” he cried out to Cora. The woman still seemed stunned and gave him a confused, unfocused look. “Move, now!” Reyes grabbed her arm hard and pulled her along. He would apologize for bruises later. To her credit, even half knocked out she still pushed through, letting Reyes haul her towards safety.

As they trudged in the direction of the airlock, thousands of thoughts swirled inside Reyes' mind. He had no idea what had just happened. Why was he relatively fine while two trained soldiers – one an ex-member of an asari commando group and the other the human Pathfinder himself – had been defeated so easily? Two biotics who bent the laws of physics at a whim without breaking a sweat?

Then it dawned on Reyes. Of course. The implants. That monster somehow messed up technology, jamming signals and causing all kinds of malfunctions. And since biotics had a chip in their brains...

Reyes' grip on his lover tightened as he swallowed hard.

Scott was hit doubly hard because of the enhanced SAM chip.

“SAM, you still there?”

Dreadful silence was the only reply he got.

Suppressing the very raw need to scream, Reyes moved as fast as he could, wanting to bring them to safety, as far away from this cursed ship as possible. Both Cora and Scott needed immediate medical attention, especially Scott.

Despite Reyes' best efforts, they were barely hobbling at a casual speed. Cora's legs were like jelly and she tripped and stumbled every few steps. Reyes practically had to carry her as well. His strength was seeping away at an alarming rate. His muscles ached and he was becoming fatigued, the adrenaline alone not able to sustain him forever.

_Clang clang_.

The pitter-patter and a shrill scream sounded behind them. Reyes' heart almost jumped out of his chest. He risked a terrified glance over his shoulder.

The monster was approaching. Slowly, but with determination and hatred oozing from every vein of its scorched, deformed body. The fire hadn't kill it, neither had bullets. Maybe nothing could put it down. An immortal beast, unrelenting like the Furies and just as ready to destroy them.

Reyes realized with painful clarity that their chances of survival had plummeted and hit rock bottom. There was no way they would be able to reach the airlock in time.

Unless...

Reyes closed his eyes, sighing to himself.

Unless, of course, someone would play the fucking hero. And that someone had to be him.

He almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. Almost. He might have if he hadn't been scared witless.

“Cora.” The woman's gaze was a little more lucid now. It would have to suffice. Reyes didn't have the luxury to be picky. “When we reach the junction, take Scott and go to the airlock and then to the Tempest as fast as you can. I'll buy you some time.”

She stared at him, and he saw that she was doing her best to keep it together. Her brain might have been fried, her legs barely moving, but that didn’t weaken her spirit. As she realized what he was about to do, she gave him a stern look.

“You will die.” Not a prediction, but a certainty, shared without any pleasantries to weaken the blow.

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m like a space cockroach, it’s not that easy to kill me,” he replied flippantly and with a smile that was pale and unconvincing. It was a suicidal gig and they both knew it. “Just tell Scott... ah, never mind. He knows.”

She gave him another long look, but nodded with newly found respect. No pointless discussion, no attempts at convincing him that there was another way. There was none. She simply acknowledged it with a soldier-like acceptance of a cruel fate that can't be changed. A hell of a woman.

The surge of adrenaline brought on by his determination helped him find enough strength to bring them both around the corner with more speed. There was no time for teary goodbyes. He kissed the side of Scott’s head and gave him to Cora, bridal style. The Pathfinder was unresponsive, but still alive and breathing.

Reyes' heart clenched. Scott had to survive all this, he had to make it, he had to turn this galaxy into a better place, fill people’s lives with happiness and optimism like he had done with Reyes'. A light in the dark, a symbol of hope dispersing doubts and fear.

Reyes could use a bit of that light right now because he was terrified. Hell, he didn’t want to die. Definitely didn't want to die. Not so soon, not without achieving everything he wanted. Not like this, not mauled to death by a beast straight from Hell. But better him than Scott, right? That kid really did a number on him. Truly somebody to die for.

And among all the regrets, one weighed especially heavy on his chest. If only he had gathered enough courage to ask Scott to marry him, to tie their lives together with two rings, promising eternal love and devotion. He wanted that, he needed that, to make Scott truly his own. But now it was too late. The thought that at least he wouldn't make a widower out of him was small consolation.

“Go!” Reyes muttered to Cora, who nodded in understanding. She could barely stand upright with Scott’s added weight, but nonetheless started to amble away without lingering. A soldier could honor and appreciate a sacrifice, he supposed.

Right. He took a deep breath and turned on his heel, running to the corridor entrance they had just come through. The monster was almost upon them.

“Hey, asshole!” he shouted, getting its attention. The hate radiating from the creature was almost palpable. Reyes allowed the beast to come even closer, getting its undivided attention, and then dashed left, running towards what he thought were the crew's quarters. He glanced over his shoulder, both wanting to have the monster at his heels and dreading it. The creature took the bait though, not giving even a passing glance in the direction of the others. Cora hauled Scott away, disappearing in the distance.

Good. That was good.

Too bad that Reyes' situation was so shitty.

Not sure how long it would take Cora to get herself and Scott to safety, he decided to lead the beast as far from them as possible and keep it away from that part of the ship. The monster screamed again, the sound unnerving and ghastly, but if it had counted on taking Reyes down so easily, it was going to be solely disappointed.

“Do better! I've had worse headaches after a night drinking at Kralla’s Song with Scott!”

_Scott_. Reyes hoped he’d be alright.

Reyes skidded around turns and ran through the labyrinth of corridors, seeing more mangled corpses of the Avalon's crew everywhere he went. Soon he would join them. Not wanting to think about that too much, he concentrated on making sure that the monster wasn’t too close or too far away from him. As tempting as it was to shoot it again, he couldn’t risk chasing it away. That would defy the whole purpose of this set-up; he had to keep it at arm's length. His grenades begged to be used as well. Their weight in his satchel was comforting. At least he could go out with a bang and not die sliced to shreds by the monster’s claws.

Seconds turned to minutes – at least that was how it felt. The creature wasn’t fast, but it kept up its pace, untiring. Unlike Reyes, who was starting to feel short of breath. The stinging pain in his side didn't make the running easier either.

So this was it then, huh?

Were Scott and Cora out of this hellish place yet? What if they weren’t? What if they were still here and the monster would go after them, having taken him down? No, Reyes couldn’t take that risk.

If he was to die then his death had to mean something, dammit!

He needed a plan.

His emotions cooled down, tucked away in the back of his mind, as always when he began considering a problem for real. There was something soothing in analyzing available data and trying to piece them together, making sense of all the scattered information and using them to the fullest. The main issue was that there was a possibly unkillable monster roaming the ship. Solution? Take the monster off the ship.

Reyes smiled to himself. Of course. It was so beautifully simple that it almost made him mad he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

An escape pod. All he needed to do was to lure the monster in there and eject it into space. Not dying in the process would be a nice bonus too, although he didn't allow himself any false hope. If he had to, he wouldn't hesitate to lock himself in with the creature and get killed somewhere in the deep space.

Logic dictated that the escape pods should be near the living quarters, so he once again turned in that direction, hoping that he had mastered the layout of the ship by now. Fortunately, he was always remarkably good with directions. A handy trait when you were in the smuggling business.

The monster had almost caught up to him. Reyes' reserves of energy were reaching depletion, but he still found some strength to keep going. For Scott he would do the impossible.

Finally, _finally_ he noticed the escape pods. A row of them, to save the whole crew if the need arose. A few corpses lying near the walls told him that some of them tried to get the hell out. None succeeded. Everyone died horribly, torn to pieces by the monster’s claws. What if the creature’s weird powers destroyed the electronics on the doors and the pods didn’t work anymore? The thought was maddening. But even if that was true, Reyes could do nothing about it. He had to try at least. And if all else failed, he still had a handful of grenades.

At full dash, Reyes ran towards the pod at the far end of the corridor. Slamming himself against the doors, he opened them and whisked around, standing steadfast on the threshold. The monster ran towards him, its milky eyes seemingly glistening with vile joy at having cornered its victim.

Everything suddenly became too real. Hot and short of breath, Reyes felt cold grips of panic reaching for his throat.

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit..._

How the fuck did he find himself in this mess?

He needed to think. Think, think, think. No way he would die on this godforsaken ship, or drifting in space in a pod, not even knowing if Scott was okay. Out of the question. Inconceivable. Heroes sacrificed themselves readily for the greater good. Survivors simply survived.

A stream of thoughts flooded his mind, forming a torrent of hare-brained plans. Throwing a smoke grenade in the pod and escaping in the confusion. A frag grenade under the monster’s stomach, hopefully taking its legs right off, and then kicking the mutilated torso into space. Another fire grenade right into the monster’s mouth and then a daring escape.

Reyes was a gambling man, but right now he wouldn’t bet even one credit on himself. Odds definitely weren’t in his favor. Only a miracle could save him now.  And he didn't believe in miracles.

_Goodbye, Scott. See you on the other side._

“Get down!”

His body reacted before his brain caught up, making him hit the ground with a thud. Confused, he carefully looked up. The monster had been flung angrily above him with a bolt of purple energy, crashing into the escape pod in a tangle of limbs.

Reyes blinked. At the other end of the corridor, Cora leaned heavily against the wall. She seemed to be in pain and her bloodied face looked frazzled, but her extended hand emanated strong biotic force.

Shock only lasted a fraction of a second. Reyes jumped to his feet and smashed the button that closed the door of the pod. The monster banged against the metal in frustration. Reyes allowed himself a smug smile.

_Good riddance, fucker!_

He grabbed the hatch lever and pulled it hard. With a satisfying crunch, the escape pod disengaged and flew like a rocket into the depths of space, hopefully disappearing in its vastness forever.

Reyes laughed, more to relieve tension than from amusement. He felt exhilarated, high, ten years younger.

_Alive_.

Damn, lady luck must really like him. Or another lady, at least.

Rush of emotions subsiding, he walked towards Cora, feeling the tiredness return to his muscles with a vengeance. She looked even worse than he felt. He wrapped an arm around her, helping her to stand. Without the support she would have crumpled to the floor any second now.

“Why did you return? I told you to go to the Tempest,” he said. It came out more confrontational than he intended. Must be the exhaustion, overriding his charm filters.

“You’re not my commanding officer,” she replied, a pale smile playing on her worn-out features. “And besides… Scott has lost enough already. I didn’t want to see him go through that kind of grief again.”

Reyes stared at her, not sure what to say. It seemed that he had finally been accepted into the family. The thought warmed his heart.

“Thank you.” The safest, but also the most earnest reply he could muster. Cora nodded curtly. No more words were needed on the topic. “Where’s Scott? Is he okay?”

“He’s safe in the storage room. Still unconscious, but I think he’s better now.”

“We need to get him to the doctor as quickly as possible.”

Cora nodded again. No argument there. Leaning against one another, both so tired that they were on the verge of crawling, they limped towards the storage room to fetch Scott and finally get the hell away from here.

The thought of Scott fueled Reyes, forced him to move his muscles and take one step after another no matter how much his body ached. Now that the danger has been dealt with, he couldn't stop worrying. The need to see Scott, to see for himself that he was alive, burned bright red in his mind. If something happened to him while Cora was saving his ass... Reyes wouldn't survive that. And judging by the expression on the woman's face, neither would she.

The walk to the storage room seemed to take forever. Finally, Reyes pressed the button, opening the door. They entered anxiously, holding their breaths.

Scott was lying on the floor, put by Cora into a recovery position. His eyes were closed, the spit and blood drying on his face. But his chest was moving. He was alive.

Reyes closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. He wanted to sob in relief, but felt too tired for that.

“Take him,” said Cora, moving slightly away and trying to stand on her own. He didn't need any more encouragements.

“Scott.” Reyes crouched near him, pressing his hand to his neck. The pulse was weak, but there. Reyes couldn't possibly ask for more. “Let's get you to the doctor, okay? She will eat me alive, most likely. That will be quite a sight, yeah?” he rambled, but couldn't help it. He slipped one shaky arm under Scott's neck, the other under his knees and lifted him, pressing him against his chest. So broken, so young, so vulnerable. Reyes kissed his forehead.

“Re...ye...s...” The voice was barely a murmur, but to him it was like the most beautiful symphony, bringing him almost to tears.

“I'm here. It's all right.” He smiled, looking into Scott's half-opened, unfocused eyes. “Everything will be all right. I promise.”     


	4. Chapter 4

Scott’s skin, incredibly pale even under the best of circumstances, looked almost translucent against the white sheet in the med bay. His chest expanded and constricted to the even rhythm of his breathing. The machine, to which he had been hooked up, beeped quietly, showing his heart rate. An IV was stuck in his arm, but the drugs he had been given would be wearing off shortly.

At least that was what the asari doctor had said, probably having had enough of Reyes' incessant pestering. How could he not hound her for answers though? Surely she didn’t expect him to remain indifferent to the fate of his boyfriend, right? Not knowing, the uncertainty was driving him mad.

Scott sighed, pulling Reyes out of his reverie.

“Scott?” he said softly, taking his hand and brushing his thumb gently over Scott's knuckles.

The Pathfinder parted his eyelids slowly and blinked twice, pointing his glassy stare at Reyes. Fragile like a porcelain figurine. All Reyes' protective instincts were in full bloom.        

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Scott’s voice was quieter than a whisper, but the warm smile on his face did things to Reyes' heart, things he didn't think were possible.

“Your doctor finally allowed me to visit you. After two days, can you imagine? She’s like a Cerberus, that one. Just with less slobber.”

Scott chuckled breathlessly.

“She is. I’m more afraid of her than any fiend.” He squeezed Reyes' hand back, who barely felt it. Scott was still weak like a kitten. Another worry to add to the bunch.

Those two days were extremely taxing. Doctor T'Perro kept him confined to the Pathfinder's Quarters, telling him to rest and not disturb her as she treated Scott and Cora. Never again did he want to feel that powerless.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, cupping his lover's cheek. Scott leaned into the touch, starved for it after the long separation.

“As if my brain had been fried.”

“Well, it had.” Of all the awful things Reyes had seen in his life, the sight of Scott shaking violently on the floor and bleeding from his eyes took first place. “Doctor T’Perro told me that the creature's… powers somehow short-circuited the implants in your brain.” That was his initial hypothesis as well, but it was good to have it confirmed by a professional. “Cora was affected too, but you were hit harder because of SAM's enhanced chip. You scared me half to death.”

 “It looked worse than it truly was,” Scott said nonchalantly. “I feel fine, I should be up and about in a few days. But until then rest, rest, rest. I hate being bed-ridden,” he groaned.

Reyes smiled. Scott must truly feel better if he was starting to bitch about inaction.

“Well, maybe it won’t be that bad. I’ll keep you company and, as you know, I’m a true delight.”

Scott raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Don’t you have some kinging to do?”

“My omni-tool works just fine from the Tempest and Keema has things under control. Kadara can survive a week without me being there in person.”

Scott thanked him with a smile and another weak squeeze of his hand.

“Good. It’s never boring when you’re around.”

For a moment they allowed the comfortable silence to envelop them. Sometimes words weren’t needed to say the most important things.

“How is SAM?” inquired Reyes finally.

“ _I am operating without problems now, Reyes_. _As far as I can tell there was no permanent damage to my structure._ ”

“Glad to hear that.” It was nice that SAM kept addressing him by his name and not the surname. Reyes liked to think that Scott’s feelings influenced that change.

“What even was that creature?” Scott asked suddenly, wincing. The memories of the encounter surely weren’t pleasant. Reyes couldn't even begin to imagine what Scott went through.

“ _I do not know. There is no data available in any of the databases on the Nexus._ ”

“I asked Keema to do some digging in the angaran files but she came out empty as well.” Reyes shrugged, not able to offer any more insight on the topic.

“Doesn’t matter, I suppose,” said Scott with a sigh. “I just hope it dies in space without hurting anyone else.”

Reyes couldn’t have agreed more. Everyone on the Avalon had died; rescue team found only corpses. It wasn’t their problem now, not anymore. The Nexus had been informed about the whole situation, the ships in the vicinity had been warned. If they were lucky, someone had torpedoed the escape pod already.

“I heard from Cora, before she was released from the med bay, that you were quite the hero,” Scott said, his smile bright. Admiring. Proud.

Reyes' heart did a somersault and his self-esteem skyrocketed.

“I guess I have contracted some strain of heroism from you,” he replied, causing the Pathfinder to laugh. “The credit is not all mine, though. Cora saved my ass. Like one bloodied, pissed off Valkyrie.”

Scott nodded, as if that description was perfect, a playful smile still on his bloodless lips.

“She spoke really highly of you and it’s not easy to impress her. I have a feeling you now carry Cora’s seal of approval.”

“Should I be afraid?”

“Should I be jealous?” countered Scott.

“Hardly.” Reyes smirked. “But I am jealous of these sheets because they lay on top of you and I do not.”

Scott huffed, as if not sure whether he should laugh or groan at that.

“I'm still recuperating. Down, boy.”

“As you wish.”

There was not a sign of protest when Reyes moved from the chair to the edge of the bed, leaned down and pressed his lips to Scott’s. On the contrary, the Pathfinder seemed very eager despite his weakened state.

“Mr. Vidal, please do not excite my patient.”

The asari doctor stood in the doorway with a stern expression on her face and her arms crossed over her chest.

Reyes and Scott exchanged knowing glances.

“Busted,” muttered Reyes in a stage whisper.

Scott’s giggles couldn’t muffle the doctor’s exasperated sigh.

“SAM, could you keep an eye on the Pathfinder and make sure that he gets all the rest he so desperately needs?” she said.

“ _Certainly, Doctor T'Perro._ ”

“Thank you. And I really do hope that I won't find any new bites on the Pathfinder's neck.” Lexi gave them both a look, amused sparks glinting in her eyes. Maybe she wasn't as bad as Reyes initially thought. He certainly appreciated the fact that she then grabbed her datapad and walked out of the med bay, allowing them some privacy. He certainly wanted to take advantage of that.

Although the bed was narrow and Scott took up most of its space, Reyes still managed to squeeze himself right next to his lover, hugging him as much as was possible in the current circumstances. He pressed his forehead against the side of Scott's face, feeling the Pathfinder smile.

“I love you,” he whispered into Scott's ear, his voice heavy with the memories of almost losing him.

“I love you too.” Scott covered Reyes' hand with his own. The contrast between their skin tones was even more prominent now.

To think that Scott almost died... To think that he almost died...

Reyes swallowed hard.

“Can I ask you something, Scott?”

“Sure.” He sounded intrigued.

“But I have a feeling that your doctor won't be happy about it.”

“Now you really have my attention.”

Reyes chuckled.

He'd thought about this so many times, running various scenarios through his head, wanting everything to be perfect. But now he understood how silly that was. The scenery, the music, the romantic mood, even the rings, none of that mattered. What mattered was Scott and how he felt about him.  

The words rolled effortlessly off his tongue, the easiest thing he had ever done in his life.

“Scott, will you marry me?”

The machine blared an alarm as the patient's heart rate peaked to dangerous levels. Scott turned his head and stared at him in shock, in disbelief. His eyes searched his face for any signs of this being a joke. Reyes knew he wouldn't find anything like that. He meant every word, serious as he had never been before.

“Oh God,” Scott stuttered when he found his voice again. “Yes. Yes!”

He laughed and cried at the same time, and honestly Reyes did the same.

“What's going o–” Lexi returned only to find the two of them kissing with reckless abandon, both a complete mess of emotions. “Oh no, no. That's it.”

Being dragged away from the med bay by the angry asari pulling at his ear probably should have left him feeling humiliated. But he didn't. He was far too giddy, too drunk on happiness to let anything sour the moment. The doctor ranted about his irresponsible behavior, but all he could hear were Scott's pleas to leave his fiancé alone.

_Fiancé_. Not as good as _husband_ but they would get there eventually.

Yeah, fiancé had a nice ring to it.

Rings. He would make sure that they got the best damn rings Andromeda had to offer.

After all, Scott was not only worth dying for, but above all else, living for.

 


End file.
